The Hunter and Widow
by John Silver fan
Summary: Takes place a few days after the end of Fox and the Hound.


Amos Slade sat on his bed with his leg propped up after having stepped in one of his own traps days ago while hunting Mrs. Tweed's fox, Todd. He swallowed the last of his soup and set the bowl on the nightstand next to his bed.

Despite the fact that he had, on numerous occasions, tried to kill her fox, Mrs. Tweed was still kind and forgiving. She had tended to his leg, bandaged it, continued to bring him food and help him around on his makeshift crutches.

It was no secret that they didn't always get along. In fact, it wasn't very often that they did. Despite all the times they argued, and all the threats he had made, Amos would never truly harm the widow.

The old hunter's temper was notorious, and many people did their best to avoid even irritating him. Mrs. Tweed, on the other hand, had proved several times that she wasn't afraid of him. She was probably the only person around who would, and did, put him in his place. She wasn't intimidated by him and wouldn't hesitate to let him know it. She didn't put up with his temper and had often scolded him about it.

Amos smiled and chuckled softly as he thought about the first time he tried to kill Tod. She had taken his gun and shot his radiator. Whenever they got into a fight, it was often him who was on the losing end. Mrs. Tweed took no bad behavior from him. He had been threatened with his own gun, whacked with a broom, and even hit in the face with a pie.

He brought his mind back to the present. Despite everything, Mrs. Tweed continued to be kind and caring. When they weren't arguing, she could be quite friendly. He wondered why she continued to be so kind to him even after all he had done and tried to do.

Meanwhile, next-door, Mrs. Tweed was baking a pie. She glanced out the window to Amos' house. His two hunting dogs, Copper and Chief, lay in their barrels. She smiled a little.

Amos could be nasty when he wanted to be or when provoked, but she wasn't afraid of him. She often put him in his place by beating him down until his temper usually burned itself out. There were times he had walked away from the fight still angry but aware that he had let his temper take control again.

Despite all the arguments, displays of rage, and other things, she continued to be kind and friendly. Over the years that they had been neighbors, she began to notice that after the many times of her beating him down in arguments, he was becoming more calm and less likely to explode.

She knew there was still some hope for him to change for the better. There had been another thing she had realized just recently actually. No matter how heated and tense the arguments got, Amos had never raised a hand against her or really hurt her. Even with his temper, the hunter was almost always able to tell when he had gone too far. When, and if, he caught it, he'd calm down and apologize.

He was gruff, stern, and a little harsh sometimes, but he didn't have it in him to truly hurt someone on purpose. She had never known him to be cruel, either, so she knew there was hope for him.

Once the pie was done and had cooled some, she took it over to Amos'.

Copper awoke and looked up to see Mrs. Tweed. He smiled, stood, wagged his tail, and went as close to her as the rope would allow. He barked happily.

Mrs. Tweed smiled and patted the young hound. Copper panted happily as she patted him a few times before going in.

Amos had awoken from a lightly doze by Copper barking. He relaxed when he saw it was only Mrs. Tweed.

"I brought you some blueberry pie."

"You're not going to throw it at me, are?"

Both chuckled at the memory of when she threw her blueberry pie into his face.

"No, I'm not."

"Good."

She cut the pie, put a piece on a plate with a fork, and handed it to him. He smiled in thanks and took a bite. It was delicious. He was about to take another bite when he noticed something.

"Ain't you gonna have any?"

"Oh, no. I made this pie for you."

He smirked.

"I can't eat it all myself. You made it, so you should have some, too."

She sighed, smiled, and took a piece for herself. Amos smiled a little himself and took another bite.

He was about to take yet another bite, when he sneezed. The force of the sneeze sent his head forward and his hands and arms up. The pie flew up off the plate, and he automatically looked up, and it landed on his face.

Mrs. Tweed couldn't help but laugh a little as Amos sighed.

"Looks I threw it on myself," he joked with a smile.

She laughed again, and he chuckled as he wiped his face off with his handkerchief. He watched her calm from her laughter, though she was still giggling a little, and he found himself thinking how nice her laugh was.

She gave him another piece of pie, smiling. He took it, smiling back. As they ate, his mind wandered back to the smile she had given him while handing him the second piece of pie.

_She really is lovely when she smiles._

He blinked and shook his head.

Where had _that_ come from?

"Amos, are you all right?"

He looked at her.

"What?"

"Are you all right? You didn't answer me when I said your name twice."

He blushed a little, looking sheepish.

"Sorry."

"It's all right. I'll bring you some stew for dinner."

She turned to go.

"Wait."

"Yes?" she asked turning back to him.

He hesitated.

"Amos?"

He swallowed.

"Would... would you stay... for a while longer?"

She smiled.

"All right."

She left an hour later. That evening, as she was making the stew, she thought back to her afternoon with Amos. Somethings had happened that left her a little confused.

When he had smiled, genuinely smiled, at her, it felt as if she had butterflies in her stomach, and when he had asked to her to stay, her heart fluttered.

_Am I falling in love with him?_

She shook her head. She couldn't be falling for the hunter. He was friend at the most. Then again, no mere friend had ever made her feel the way he had.

Mrs. Tweed slowly smiled. She was falling in love with Amos Slade.

She took the cooked stew to him.

"You okay?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

He set the bowl on the nightstand.

"You're awful quiet."

"Oh. I'm just thinking is all."

He seemed satisfied by her answer, at least for now, as he picked up the bowl and finished the stew.

"Is it somethin' ya wanna talk about?" he asked after wiping his mouth.

She blushed a little.

"Yes, actually."

He nodded for her to go on.

"Amos, I... I... I love you."

He stared at her. He had not been expecting _that_ to be what she was thinking about.

_She loves me? She loves me? She loves me!_

He blinked, shook his head, and smiled.

"I... I love ya, too."

She went to him and kissed his cheek. Amos felt his heart flutter when her lips touched his cheek. He looked at her, unaware she had been moving to kiss his cheek again.

Their lips met, and their eyes widened. Then Amos slowly closed his eyes and moved into the kiss. Mrs. Tweed did the same.

They broke the kiss after a few moments, their lips parting with a quiet smack, and smiled at each other.

"There is one thing I'd like to know."

"Yes, Amos?"

He hesitated only for a moment.

"Your name. Your first name."

She smiled.

"It's April."

"April," he said, testing her name.

He smiled.

"Beautiful."

She blushed and kissed him.

As he kissed her back, Amos had never felt so at peace in his entire life as he did at that moment.


End file.
